


Challenge Accepted

by FireSoul



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Secret Santa 2020, Smut, very little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireSoul/pseuds/FireSoul
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, Leonard's first Christmas Eve since coming back to life and the ship. Sara was planning on spending it alone in the parlor but, well, sometimes it's better to throw away the plan.
Relationships: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23
Collections: CaptainCanary2020SecretSanta





	Challenge Accepted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BronzeCanary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BronzeCanary/gifts).



“Aren’t you supposed to be writing down what happened this year?”

Sara glares at Leonard over the tops of her cards. That had been what she said she was planning to do with her Christmas Eve, that way she would be able to enjoy Christmas tomorrow and they would be prepared in case the timeline went off the rails in the last week of 2020. It’d be a fitting end.

“I started.” She says, putting down another card. “Aren’t you supposed to be at S.T.A.R. Labs?”

He keeps his face mostly even, only one corner of his mouth turning downwards in the smallest possible dip.

“I stopped by.” He defends, putting down one of his cards. “We’ll see them tomorrow.”

She nods, and they continue to play in silence for another few turns until the game ends and he gathers up the cards to reshuffle.

“How far did you get?”

“Jumped around a little.” She shrugs, “I logged that the Crisis happened and the Earths merged. I didn’t do much with the effects it had. I did most of our missions, Charlie leaving, Ava leaving… yeah.” She trails off, though he’s been looking at her curiously since she mentioned she hasn’t yet logged the changes the Crisis brought.

She hasn’t yet logged that he’s returned.

He starts dealing out the cards, and she waits until he’s done to pick up her pile and fan them out.

“I’m sorry.” He says instead of making the first move for the game, and the apology is so… so not his style that Sara looks up at him with wide eyes.

“About Ava.” He continues, “I know you guys were together for awhile.”

She shrugs, “It’s fine.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. The two of them haven’t discussed Ava since she left. She isn’t sure if it’s because of the adverse relationship he and Ava had that was the worst kept secret on the ship, or if it’s because they haven’t talked about whatever they were before. Either way the most he’s ever said about Ava was a small nod when she’d told him she’d left, and then asked if she were ok.

She’d said she was, and she was, but she still wishes he had pressed a little more.

“I didn’t want to forget her leaving.” She says, and she throws down the first card of the game. “If the timeline screws up again and she ends up back here… I want to remember what happened.”

He nods, considers his cards, and lays one down.

“You didn’t log that the Crisis brought me back.” It’s an observation, a statement, not a question. He looks at her through his lashes, “If the timeline changes that, you want to forget I was back?”

She swallows; trying to stop her heart from racing with the direction this is heading in.

“I don’t want to admit you might not be here to remind me.”

His whole body seems to freeze in that moment, clearly not having expected her to say that. Whether he wasn’t expecting honesty or he wasn’t expecting her reasoning to be what it is.

She gives him a minute to process, throwing down her next card, and then he follows suit. She takes her next turn, he take his, and they go on and on until it’s looking like he’ll win the game.

“Sometimes I wonder when we’ll figure it out.”

She scrunches her brows.

“Figure what out?” She asks, lying down another card.

He sighs, taking his time as he leafs through his cards.

“Between our own mistakes and Barry, we’ve seen the timeline change in the blink of an eye more times than is worth counting. We know better than most no one is ever really dead.”

He pauses for a moment, gives her a minute to react.

“And by the same token.” She picks up for him, turning down her cards. “We know better that most no one is ever really alive, either.”

He nods, slowly, with his eyes trained carefully on her.

“So, my question is, when are we going to blow our last chance?”

She inhales deep, and exhales very heavily. She can feel him watching her, and then before she can answer he sighs.

“Sorry.” He says; his eyes flitting back to his cards. “I shouldn’t have… I-”

“No.” She cuts him off, and he looks at her again.

She sighs and puts down her cards; face down of course, just in case.

“I wonder that too.” She admits, “It’s been a long, complicated year. I didn’t want to make it more complicated.”

He looks at her for a moment, studies her, and then he turns his cards down and lays them off to the side much like she has

“What if… What if I wanted next year to be a little less complicated? What would you say?”

“I’d say you’re a week early for New Years resolutions.” She chuckles, “But I’d say that would depend. Do you want next year to be less complicated in a good way or…”

She trails off, losing her nerve a little. She’s confident she knows what he’s getting at, but she is also very aware that this year has been an adjustment for him and he spent some time earlier tonight with Lisa, who she’s heard has been getting more serious with Cisco. Maybe…

“Well, _that_ depends.” He says, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You’re the one who went through a serious break up this year. Would me making good on an old promise be a good thing right now?”

She snorts, and suddenly she’s aware of the edge of cards scraping against the side of her foot. When had she shifted enough so she was infringing on the pile?

“Promise?” She asks, “I don’t remember any promises. I remember a challenge.”

He hums, not trying to hide his smirk anymore.

“Is that what you called it?”

“Yeah.” She says, leaning just a hair closer.

“Well then, challenge accepted.”

He leans forward then, just barely brushing her lips with his. It’s still a question, she realizes, so she leans in and captures his lips the rest of the way. She puts a hand on his shoulder to aid in drawing herself closer to him. That turns out to be a slippery slope, as she moves the rest of her body too and finds herself straddling his lap with her arms winding around his neck. His hands hold onto her waist to keep her steady. They kiss for what is probably longer than he’s intended, and when she pulls up for air he uses his head against hers to knock her away just a little, just enough.

“So this is ok?” He asks and she laughs.

“Yes.” She promises. “I want to know what the future might hold for me and you.”

She dives back in for another kiss with that, one he returns happily. She’s the one who escalates it by daring to slip her tongue into the action, but it’s him who obliges her request and pulls her impossibly closer as he does so. If she was straddling his lap before she was at least sitting on his thighs, but now she’s got her legs well and framing his hips, the weight of her pushing him back.

And that isn’t even to mention a certain bulge in his pants starting to make itself known against the very top of her inner thigh.

They break apart when he lands on his back against the mattress, his head and shoulders propped crookedly against the wall, and she remains where she is on top of him.

He looks up at her; a smug and yet near-dopey smile on his face, and it occurs to her that the elephant in the room has finally been addressed. They don’t have to go any further than this if they don’t want to. He’s made his move, she’s accepted it, and they’re going to see about that future together.

She leans down to kiss him again, her hands spreading out on his chest and her hips grinding drown against his.

He’s receptive to that. He keeps his hold on her hips firm, keeping her in place.

“Mmm, you sure about this?” She asks, her voice thick and breathless with desire already.

She pulls back with that, and his eyes are trained up on her.

“We don’t have to rush.” She continues, pushing herself up because she needs _some_ distance from his deliciously hooded eyes if she’s going to make that suggestion. “I know you like to have a plan.”

He hums, his grasp on her hips loosening but not falling lax.

“Assassin, I accepted a long time ago that when it comes to you my plans are out the window.”

She snorts; good.

“But if you want to wait-”

“No.” She interrupts him. “Believe me, there won’t be another day where the entire team is off ship until next Christmas.”

He chuckles at that, and she runs her hands down his chest.

“I’m good.” She promises, running her hands lower, over his abdomen, until she can curl her fingers over the edge of his belt. “It’s up to you.”

He smirks this time and his hands start to wind upwards, just a touch, bunching her shirt and slipping underneath to the skin of her back.

“I’m good.” He says, his voice dripping with double entendre.

She smirks and grinds her hips back, a little harder this time than before, and he sucks in a breath.

He moves his hands again in retaliation; drags them up her body slow enough that she knows he is cataloging every raised scar for another time, but he never stops on them. Finally he pushes her shirt all the way up over her head. She lets it fall behind her and with her eyes never leaving his she brings her arms back to unhook her bra. She lets that fall forwards and slides it off her arms, discarding it to the side of the bed. After that she squares her shoulders, presenting herself to him almost. If the smirk he’s giving her is to serve as any indication she’s going to say he approves. His hands are on her shoulders now, and they move down, palming over her breasts.

She arches herself forward, her hands flat on his chest to keep herself steady, and she groans.

“You’re still wearing a shirt.” She groans and he snickers.

“Very observant.” He drawls, running his hands under her breasts now so that he’s cupping him

She shivers, just a little, but it’s enough that his smirk for her grows and she is almost certain the bulge in his pants has grown since she first got onto his lap.

“I’m serious Leonard.” She attempts to chide him, but it falls flat through her breathlessness.

Even so she trails her hands down his chest much like before, though this time she finds she is more aware of the feel of defined, lanky muscle hidden beneath his sweater and who knows how many other layers.

She intends to find out.

When her hands reach his hips and start to bunch at the fabric she glances at him. He holds her gaze, and instead of giving a verbal answer to her unasked question he moves his hands so one holds at her side and the other at her waist. Then he shifts upwards, consequentially shifting her down, until they’re flipped and he’s the one straddling her.

He pauses only for a moment, allowing her to get comfortable, and then with a wide grin that promises he is well aware of her watching him he pulls off his sweater, then his long sleeved undershirt.

“Only two layers?” She hums, her eyes raking him over. She notes a jagged scar curving around his right side, as well as a group of cigarette burns over on his left shoulder. There are some other faint scars scattered along his torso, and she’s sure even more on his back, but tonight isn’t the night to focus on them. Maybe another time, but until then she’ll catalog a mental reminder to imagine the punching bag in the training room as his father the next time she’s going hard on it.

He hums, his grin still wide and very dirty.

“What can I say Assassin? I’m full of surprises.”

Oh, she doesn’t doubt it.

“Oh yeah?” She finds herself challenging. “Show me.”

His eyes darken with the sound of her words, like they’re just the thing he’s been waiting for all night.

Ridding themselves of their pants and underwear goes quickly, and when Sara fishes a condom from her top drawer Leonard doesn’t verbally tease her, just slips it on with a smirk.

Sara might as well be mesmerized by the sight of him rolling the latex up the length of his hard cock. He doesn’t draw it out – thankfully, she isn’t sure she could handle that – but instead slips it on and then turns back to her with a hungry look in his eyes.

She gets her hands back on his shoulders, his back on her hips, and then she makes the decision about how they’re going to do this and pushes him down.

“Eager tonight, are we?” He teases just before she kisses him. “Now how am I supposed to show you my surprises if you’re calling the shots?”

She kisses him again, smirking against his mouth.

“I guess you’ll just have to be creative.”

He hums, and slides his hand over from her hip across her lower belly. He isn’t gentle. His hand is pressing into her, not hard but enough that it’s a noticeable pressure. Before she can ask what he’s doing he brings his other hand back to one of her breasts and swipes his thumb over her nipple. She leans forward, much like she did before, only this time doing so brings the hand he has on her belly lower so that it’s cupping the mound of her crotch, his fingers just poking at the entrance to her folds.

He smirks, a confirmation that she has fallen right into his trap. He starts stroking his fingers along her, and if she can’t be smug about anything else she can at least be smug about the way his eyes close and his lips stutter air when he feels how wet she already is.

She kisses him again, this time hard, near possessive, and rocks her hips against him. He’s fully hard by now, rubbing against her ass and she growls into his mouth.

Fortunately, that’s all she needs to say.

Well, sort of.

He slips the tip of one of his fingers up into her opening and she shutters. Suddenly she is very aware of how long she’s been waiting for this, waiting to have him under her with nothing between them, and she _needs_ to finish this out before history reroutes itself and they have to go fix it.

“Leonard…” She pants, and she thinks he might laugh at how needy she sounds, but instead he mewls under her.

And here she thought she was already past the point of no return.

“Crook…” She swallows, and tilts her head up to try and catch her breath.

That, of course, turns out to be a mistake. Leonard being the damn thief he is takes advantage of her attempt at getting reprieve and puts his mouth on her chest. She gasps as his lips make contact. His teeth scrape at her skin and she bucks her hips against him. The noise she makes this time is almost a cry, because he still has barely half a finger inside of her, his cock is still behind her and rubbing against her ass with her sporadic thrusts against hips. She tries to scoot back, to take him inside of her and get some damn relief, but the instant she moves he takes the hand that isn’t busy torturing her and holds her steady.

“The hell…ah…” She trails off with a sharp hitch of her breath. He’s finally slipped his whole finger inside her.

“Len….” She whispers, and he fucking shushes her.

“Shh…” He trails, giving a roll of his hips with the command. “All in good time Assassin.”

For all of two seconds she very seriously considers the merits of killing him.

“Good time?” She manages to huff, “Been waiting four years.”

He snorts against her chest, his breath intoxicatingly warm against her skin.

“Good point.”

She finds she’s grateful she knows him so well, because she knows his admitting she’s right is not a promise she’s going to get what she wants any quicker.

True to her prediction, when she tries again to move back he again holds her steady with that one hand, while the other one juts a second finger into her.

She shudders, bucks her hips, and the way the tip of one of his fingers presses up inside her when she does…

She clenches her legs firm against his side.

“Len.” She pants, “Please. I’m going to-”

He doesn’t let her finish.

He somehow manages to pinch her clit between his pinky and his thumb while still moving two fingers inside of her in just the right way. His ring finger is teased at her entrance, effectively stroking it as he moves the other digits of his hand and its just… gah…

She comes with a cry, one he moves his mouth away from her chest to swallow. He helps her through her orgasm. Her hips are still moving on him but with no discernable pattern; at least not that she is aware of. He lays back completely as she comes down from the high, letting her collapse on top of him. Her head is spinning in the best possible way, and slowly she feels herself start to come back to the world.

His hand is still down in her sex, though now the circles his thumb is drawing on her clit are more soothing and lax, and his two very talented fingers are resting almost idly at her entrance.

“Ok.” She huffs, “You win, that was a surprise.”

She feels his chest rise quickly with the chuckle that gets, and she rolls onto her stomach, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Give me a minute.” She says, scooting back just a hair, just enough to brush against that still rock hard part of him and make him gasp.

She grins, frames his face with one hand, and leans up with a chaste kiss for him.

“Soon as I can get myself up, I’ll show you some of my surprises.”

He chuckles again, “Merry Christmas Sara.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas Everyone!


End file.
